Salt on an Open Wound

“There is no coming to consciousness without pain.” ~ Carl Jung

Very few things are simultaneously as loving and painful as a kneading cat. Believe me, I would know; my cat, Wizard, is a twenty-pound bag of melted sugar and he regularly dispenses his love through the rhythmic action of his lion-sized paws.

Yesterday morning I was in for another dose of loving – Wizard jumped up on my chest while I was laying down on the couch still wearing pajamas and began walking over me in circles, lovingly kneading his way to sleep. Since I was wearing thin satin pajamas, his claws were pushing right through the material as easily as a knife slicing through butter.

He was too cute for me to push him away – his eyes were dreamy and he was purring madly – so I just held my breath whenever I felt pain. Thankfully, the slippery material caused him to slide down a couple of inches, and his paws came to rest where the shirt overlapped the pajama bottoms – instant relief! The double layer of material stopped his claws from reaching the skin. After a few moments of kneading pleasure, Wizard went to sleep. I laid there and rubbed his head, listening to him while he still purred in pure bliss. I was glad I didn’t interrupt his happy dance, as his loving actions provided a priceless portion of food for thought.

All along, Wizard never meant to hurt me – his intent was constantly motivated by love, regardless of the spot he was kneading. What made all the difference was not a change in his kneading pattern, but my own shield of protection provided by an extra layer of material.

When we are hurt by someone’s words or actions, the pain we feel may not necessarily be caused by the words or actions themselves, but by our heightened sensitivity triggered in that particular situation. Salt poured over healthy skin is merely irritating, but it is downright excruciating when sprinkled over an open wound.

Taking notice of what upsets us allows us the opportunity to see the parts of ourselves that are in need of healing. I believe that certain people and situations are placed in our lives to help us grow and heal; when someone or something causes us to feel pain, we gain insight over a “sore spot” within ourselves that needs to be addressed. Once the weak point is identified, steps can be taken to raise a better shield – it is impossible to heal something until we know what it is, the same way that we can’ t fix something until we know what part of it is broken.

People speak and act out of their own sorrows and joys, rarely even knowing how deeply their actions and words will affect us, and by causing strife they show us our strengths and weaknesses. Once the weaknesses are dealt with, those words and actions will simply slide off like a cat on satin pajamas.

As the Wheel Turns

"Fortune sometimes turns around like a mill wheel and he who was yesterday at the top lies today at the bottom” ~ Miguel De Cervantes Saavedra


Although the air was thick with pollen, my mile-a-minute daughter decided, yesterday afternoon, that she was going outside to ride her bicycle. Glass of tea in hand, I went out on the porch and settled on one of the rockers to watch her ride.

Against the tender green of new spring growth, she appeared as an explosion of pink on wheels - her bright pink helmet and shirt were a stark contrast against the sky, and a perfect match to her rose sandals and fuchsia wheel spinners. I sipped the tea, and absent-mindedly allowed myself to take in the full picture of a little girl happy in her world, until my eyes honed in on the Cinderella spinner going up and down as one of the wheels moved. Instantly, the rest of the panorama was cropped, and Cinderella was all I could see. Here was a smiling princess, sitting proudly on top of the wheel for a second, and falling to the bottom the next. Over and over. And yet, each time she fell at the bottom of the wheel, Cinderella could only rise back up.

Nothing in life is constant. We are born, live and die; relationships are formed and dissolved; empires are built and destroyed. Yet, one thing is certain – after touching the bottom, we can only look up. Being at the top is only an illusion of stability, and he who thinks he can’t fall has many lessons to learn. Similarly, he who’s at the bottom should consider that all is interchangeable, and even the worst of luck won’t last forever.

Tragedies do happen in clusters, and have the power to knock us down momentarily, but as the wheel continues to spin, we will soon be sitting on the top again, eager to savor the moments of glory, and enriched by the knowledge that what we survived is part of what pushed us back to the top.

Meeting in the Middle

North Carolina is a very pretty state, especially this time of year. While summers get a bit hot and humid, and winters can be quite cold at times, it is not a state where temperatures are habitually extreme, and spring weather is usually glorious.

This year glorious doesn’t even scratch the surface – with an uncharacteristic spell of unseasonably hot weather, North Carolina has exploded into a flowery paradise. In just a few days, Azaleas have bloomed, trees have sprouted leaves, and timid spring flowers have been on a race to catch up in a breathtaking contest of colors.

There are few times a year, if any, that I enjoy my backyard more than I do in the spring. Tucked away from the hustle and bustle of the surrounding subdivision by a greenway, the yard is a gardener’s nightmare and a naturalist’s dream; a small, natural stream divides the property from the greenway, while a natural bed of rock and a drooping canopy of Wisteria give it a touch of timeless beauty one would be surprised to find within the city limits. Needless to say, the whole area pullulates with activity, as tiny creatures get busy preparing for the summer season right around the corner.

On Sunday morning, I poured a cup of coffee and stepped outside, deeply inhaling the earthy scent of woods just awakened. I looked over at the stream, and saw two Blue Jays flying in from opposite directions, landing in perfect synchrony by the edge of the water. Judging from the different shades of their plumage, they were male and female, and I wondered for a moment if the two had met before or if I was witnessing their first "date". They remained near the water for a few seconds, probably looking around for small insects; then one flew off, and the other followed right behind, quickly disappearing behind the trees.

I sat there sipping my coffee, almost giggly at the thought of the two birds coming together and planning a family, and then, a random thought flashed through my mind…the birds had come from different directions, yet they had managed, by will or sheer fate, to meet in the middle; their connection at the meeting point would soon create new lives.

Creation can only be triggered when polarities meet. Night meets day, and either sunrise or sunset are created; winter meets summer, and spring erupts; cold air meets warm air, and lightning storms are sparked. Most, if not all, of what we experience is created by opposites coming together at a neutral meeting point. In our society, we have come to disdain what we perceive different, yet without differences we would become stagnant, unchallenged and unproductive. When everything flows along without meeting opposites, complacency takes over and growth and creation are stunted.

I doubt the Blue Jays ever thought of all this as they flew toward their life together, but I am sure that I will enjoy their creations for summers to come.